


Heritors of Arcadia

by AnAntTM



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAntTM/pseuds/AnAntTM
Summary: The curtains begin to draw as Alm and Celica reach the depths of the Temple of Duma; with Jedah and his Mogalls slain, only one threat remains: Duma himself.no I'm not sorry for including that one cut line from Gaiden[EDIT, 3/14/18]: Of course I forget to add in an important hc-Since it's never been explained what happens to Celica after Mila revives her, and there's no information provided about any other Witches who have been freed from Duma's grasp, I thought: Well what if there's a remnant of Duma's power inside of them at all times? Maybe it comes out if they're directly near Duma, and that's why Alm would want Celica to leave it to him? I dunno, food for thought





	Heritors of Arcadia

Towering above them, Duma looked like a behemoth. Untouchable, unkillable. Perhaps that should be tested. 

A powerful blast of energy launched at Alm, causing him to tuck and roll off to the side. Gripping the Falchion nervously, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead. The blasts had… become less powerful and frequently. Duma was weakening, it had to be a sign. He couldn’t waste this chance.

“It’s over, Duma! Berkut, Fernand, Rinea, Mila… Even my father. They and countless others, lost to us – tainted by your precious power! But that chain of tragedies ends here. I won’t let you hurt and destroy any other families, or take everything from others just like you’ve done to me!” Alm’s voice was spiteful, he wanted to see the god pay for all the pain, suffering, and loss he had caused. He wanted vengeance. 

Vengeance for the family that he would never get to meet, never get to laugh with, to break bread with… All of that had been taken away from him by this mad god.

“My heart is full of thanks for all you’ve given man, O divine Duma. Without yours and Mila’s bounty, Valentia could never have existed. We would never have been born into this world. Never tasted joy and sorrow.” Celica spoke with a bittersweet somberness in her tone. In a way, it almost made him feel sorry for Duma.

Almost.

“So please, do not suffer any longer. Let all of our pain end here. Allow your great and weary soul the rest it deserves!” Celica now spoke with resolve, the countenance of one who intended to put her words to work by her own means. Though she made no move, she looked at Alm... there was a fear in her eyes. 

He too looked at her, recognizing her fear. What /had/ happened to her after Mila freed her from Duma's control? Was... a remnant of his power still inside her, wanting to break out at the mere presence of the one who bestowed it onto her? No one else had ever been saved from being one of Duma's Witches... it was a risk he couldn't take, and perhaps even she had the same suspicion. 

Alm motioned for her to step back, and she did so without a second thought. Taking a deep breath, his focus now returned to the dragon, and the blade in his hands. This was his destiny, wasn't it? Mila had chosen him as her champion when she bestowed Falchion unto him; it was a father’s dying wish, and after all that's happened? He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be the one to put the blade through that dragon’s skull. He owed it to Celica, to Mila... to Berkut, Rinea, Fernand and his father.

With one swift motion, he jerked his arm backwards, tossing his shield off to the side. A loud, clattering sound echoed as the shield hit the ground behind him. He won’t need it. 

“… Don’t worry Celica.” He glared up into the massive eye staring down at him; Alm’s gaze was filled with rage, a desire for revenge. But he couldn’t let this consume him, he couldn’t. Or else he’d end up like… Shaking this aside, he concluded his thought. 

“I’ll crush this bastard.” 

Gritting his teeth, his grip around the Falchion’s hilt tightened to the point of hurting himself. He sprinted forward, closing the gap between him and Duma. Oh he was going to savor every moment of this. At the last second, he pushed his feet off the ground and lifted the Falchion above his head. A loud grunt echoed throughout the chamber as Alm, the lowly, backwater farmer from Ram Village, pierced his sword through the divine eye of Lord Duma. 

Writhing in pain, the dragon thrashed about to the point where Alm was flung clean off. Landing quite a ways away, he hit the ground. Hard. His back ached, his muscles screamed in agony; but he watched. There, propping himself up on his elbows, he watched as the mighty god fell before him, with Falchion still firmly lodged in the god’s eye. 

A few moments passed before Celica came rushing over, to help Alm with his staggering movements; he would nearly tip over and fall again with every step he made.

It… it was all over, wasn’t it? At least, it was until a loud, booming voice resounded throughout the temple. It was one like he’d never heard before… the soothing, calming voice of a father. But there was… sadness in it?

“So be it, Alm. I leave Valentia’s future to you, her hero. Take from us what lessons you will and shape her into a land to remember. Make her strong like Duma, and fill her with Mila’s love. Let our grave mistakes be warnings of where not to tread as you lead her forth. Now we shall sleep. And never shall you disturb our slumber.”

Alm and Celica exchanged a glance at that moment. He meant for them to embrace their heritage, didn’t he? Celica’s kindness, compassion along Alm’s strength, his resolve. He was Duma’s incarnate, a manifestation of all the values the Faithful and Duma himself idolized above all else... as much as Celica was Mila’s incarnate; it was clear to him now, this was what the marks on their hands signified: they were chosen by the Gods themselves, as the heirs of Valentia. Only they could lead Valentia into a new future, no more Rigel or Zofia… just Valentia. 

With a final hushed whisper in his voice, the mighty Duma had closed his eyes for the final time. If Alm had gotten a closer look, he almost would’ve seen… a smile on Duma’s lips. 

And so befell the twilight of the Gods.


End file.
